Author 



Title 




e/0 


E 


FT MEfiDE 
GenCol 1 


16 — 47372-3 


GPO 










FT 


MEADE 



Copy 1 


I 


























































. 




















» • 

















































































r 






' 





































































FOREWORD 


A S of old, Truth’s glittering raiment blinds 
human vision, and mortals yet demand it ma- 
terially garbed ere they will give it entry. 
For this, the prophets spoke in parable and tale. 

So, too, the author of this little sketch, her own 
vision wonderfully clear, wove Truth’s eternal law 
of progress into an earthly setting. 

And those who read the Story found it moSt 
unique; children heard it eagerly; adults listened 
with marked interest and attention. But, more : the 
lesson Strangely clung to those who heard or read. 

Thus justified of itself, we gladly give the helpful 
little Story publication. 


4r \V7 HAT we commonly call man, the 
W/ eating, drinking, planting, counting 
* * man, does not, as we know him, 
represent himself, but misrepresents him- 
self. . . .The influence of the senses has, in 
mo§t men, overpowered the mind to that 
degree, that the walls of time and space 
have come to look solid, real and insur- 
mountable When we discern truth, 

we do nothing of ourselves, but allow a 
passage to its beams.’ ’ 


— Emerson. 


EGG-SISTENCE 

BY 

VERNA OLIVE WARD 

n 


CHICAGO 

THE MAESTRO CO. 
1917 


18 - lots 



Copyright 1917 

BY 

THE MAESTRO COMPANY 

ISSUED NOVEMBER, 1917 


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 


c 



n 




EGG-SISTENCE 


CHAPTER 1 


HERE was once a hen who laid a wonderful 



egg. The egg was perfect in color, in texture, 


^ shape and size. In fa6t, it was so beautiful that 
the mother hen cackled with pride and delight when 
she saw it. All the fowls of the barnyard came and 
admired the wonderful egg, and went away, talking 
among themselves about its marvelous beauty. The 
egg smiled happily, and, in time, gave itself up com- 
pletely to the enjoyment of the admiration and 
wonder so freely showered upon it. 

In the meantime, another hen laid an egg — which, 
however, was remarkable only for being so very 
ordinary. There was nothing particularly pleasing 
about its color, its shape, or its size — in fa6t, it was 
ju&t the commonest kind of an egg one could 
imagine. 

It happened that the plain egg became acquainted 
with the handsome one, and they became very good 
friends. Naturally, the plain egg could never ex- 
pert the admiration of the world, such as the more 
fortunate one received, but, instead of joys of that 
kind, it fell to its lot to be a worker — one to smooth 
the path of other, more favored ones. So the plain 
egg helped to make life easy and enjoyable for the 
beautiful one, until one day the fine large egg was 


3 


EGrG-SISTENCE 

removed from the neSt, being deemed too big and 
valuable to remain longer in such a lowly position. 

After the beautiful egg was taken away, the little 
plain egg became very unhappy, and she missed the 
companionship and association with the wonderful 
egg, for they had always gotten along very well to- 
gether, in spite of the great dissimilarities in their 
natures. 

In her grief, the plain egg turned for comfort to 
other things than the pleasures of mere egg-si£t- 
ence. In fadfc, she had discovered that the more she 
looked to such pleasures, the more unhappy she be- 
came. So she began to ponder the deep mysteries 
of life. She wondered ju£t what she was, and why, 
and where she had come from, and where she was 
going — for she felt that there was some good reason 
for her existence, other than to remain forever an 
egg. 

One day, when the little plain egg was pondering 
deeply, she became conscious of a warm, living 
presence, which softly and lovingly covered her and 
took away all her fears. Then the little egg became 
very happy. Being no longer afraid, she found her- 
self better able to think; and the more she thought, 
the happier she became. 

Day after day the soft, warm presence hovered 
over her, until finally the little egg knew that a won- 
derful change was taking place. There was a feel- 
ing of growth, and a stirring of something within. 
At la&t, the egg felt that she could no longer contain 
herself. She was ju£t bursting with curiosity to 
know what was going on, and finally, one bright 
spring morning, a little fluff of down, with two 
4 


EGG-SISTENCE 

bright eyes and a tiny yellow bill, wriggled out 
from nnder the old mother hen’s breast, and looked 
interestedly about. The old hen clucked reassur- 
ingly, and arose with great dignity from her neSt. 

“My dear Chick,” she said, “I am your mother, 
and I am very glad to welcome you into the bright, 
new world that you see about you. We shall begin 
your education immediately. In the firSt place, I 
will ask you to look down into this neSt of mine. 
There you will see some little bits of white material. 
Up to the present moment you were encased in an 
oval-shaped affair known as an ‘egg.’ The bits of 
white that you see are all that is left of the egg, and 
they shall not be left much longer. ’ ’ 

With which the mother hen carefully picked out 
all the little bits of white, and the egg was no more. 

“You may now eat breakfaSt, after which we 
shall Start on a tour of the barnyard.” 

So the little chick quickly became initiated into 
the mySteries of barnyard life, and in a few weeks 
she grew up into a very nice, lady-like pullet. 

In the course of her education, and throughout 
her young life, the pullet saw and heard a great 
deal about the beautiful, large egg, who was now 
lying in a fine, special neSt, and receiving the ad- 
miration of all the barnyard hoSt. 

The egg had become very smooth and polished, 
from the constant rubbing and contaSt with its en- 
vironment, so that he was more beautiful than ever. 
The pullet, however, while admiring the egg’s 
beauty, could not help feeling sorry he was Still juSt 
an egg. One day she Stopped and talked to him, 
thinking she might learn why he had never ad- 


EGG-SISTENCE 


vanced any farther in the scale of egg-siStence. She 
was prepared to sympathize with him — but, to her 
astonishment, he could talk of nothing but his own 
beauty and attra6tiveness, and the pleasures of 
being an egg. 

“Why, my dear,” he said to the pullet, “I have 
experienced all the joys of life. I receive the un- 
failing admiration of all the world, and, to tell the 
truth, I believe I am the happieSt and luckieSt in- 
dividual that ever lived. Everybody knows me, and 
I know everybody. I take things easy, never worry, 
and I feel justified in saying that my appearance is 
improving, and that I may eventually outshine the 
sun itself.” 

“Oh, but the real you!” the little pullet cried. 
“You know you have never really been born, and 
you have no idea of the joys of real life.” 

The egg smiled a self-satisfied, knowing smile, 
and remarked, with a little laugh: 

“Well, I think you will admit that I am as real 
as you are — and as for life, why, I’m juSt bristling 
with life ! ’ ’ 

The pullet turned sadly away. It was almoSt in- 
conceivable to her that an egg should be so con- 
tented ; and yet she knew that when she was Still an 
egg she had had no idea of the joys of any other 
existence ; and she wondered if she would ever have 
developed out of the egg phase of her life if she had 
been so pleased and satisfied with herself as was 
the handsome egg. 

She tried to reason the matter out, but it seemed 
that at the end of every possible solution she would 
come up againSt the wall of self-satisfa6tion and 
6 


EGG-SISTENCE 


pride which held the beautiful egg in subje6tion. 
Even if she thought of the possibility of pricking 
that self-satisfa6tion, she knew that the egg would 
merely consider the attempt as an indication of 
jealousy or envy of his own exceedingly great 
attractiveness. 

However, the little pullet continued to think and 
ponder, in the hope that some day the beautiful egg 
might begin to aspire to something higher and 
better than the life of a mere egg. In spite of all his 
shortcomings, the pullet seemed greatly attracted 
to the wonderful egg, and she felt that if he should 
ever awake from his lowly &tage of mere egg-sit- 
ence, he would prove to be a mo£t remarkable in- 
dividual, and it was that individuality which the 
little pullet yearned so much to see and know. 


CHAPTER 2 

D AY after day went by, and on the rare occa- 
sions when the little pullet happened to see 
the egg she always found him basking lazily 
in the sunshine of his life of ease and pleasure, per- 
haps smiling to himself over some new conquest, 
some fresh admiration from a new source. For all 
the eggs, young and old, as well as all the other in- 
habitants of the barnyard, came, in time, to know 
and to admire the handsome egg. 

After a while, however, some of the older mem- 
bers of the barnyard circle began making slighting 
remarks about the egg. Some said he was an old 
7 


EGG-SISTENCE 


“good-for-nothing.” Others said he was only a 
shell, and that he had no heart. Some said he was 
bad through and through. The faithful little pullet 
happened to hear some of the things that were said, 
and she indignantly protected, saying that she was 
a friend of the egg’s, and that she would always 
Stand up for him. Then the scoffers laughed at the 
little pullet. “Why,” they said, “you surely don’t 
think there is any good in that old, smooth-shelled 
reprobate! You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, 
you know, or make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear!” 
And they roared with laughter at their own coarse 
jokes. 

“Well,” she insisted, “I certainly do think there 
is some good in that egg, and some day you will all 
see for yourselves!” 

But they scouted any such foolish notion, and 
went on about their own affairs. 

Matters continued in this way for some time. 
Then, one day, when the pullet stopped to chat with 
the egg, she noticed a blemish on his fair shell. 

“Why,” she said, “what in the world is the mat- 
ter? Where did that awful blemish come from?” 

“Oh,” he replied, “some of these fine birds 
around here have been throwing mud. That’s the 
way with the world. You have to mix with all kinds 
of people, in order to be a good fellow — and then as 
soon as you turn your back somebody Starts sling- 
ing mud. Great Scott ! the more I see of the world, 
the less I think of it!” 

“Oh, don’t feel that way,” the little pullet said, 
with a tender note in her voice. “You know, you 
don’t see the world in the right way — because, if 
8 


EGG-SISTENCE 


you did, it would all look beautiful to you, for, 
really, you ju&t get back what you give out.” 

“Yes, and I get what a lot of others give out,” 
the egg grumbled. 

“Dear Egg,” the pullet said, “I don’t think you 
are feeling well, are you?” 

“Oh, yes, I feel pretty well,” the egg said with a 
yawn; “but I get tired and sick of the way things 
go around here! Why, if they would listen to me, 
I’d have things brightened up a bit. Look at this 
old coop of a house — and these neSts are all too 
small and not properly Strawed. Gee! whiz! one 
would think we were pigs, the way we are treated ! ’ ’ 
“Egg, dear,” the pullet said, “you mustn’t talk 
that way. If you would ju&t Stop trying to find en- 
joyment and pleasure in the things around you, you 
would then not see the unlovely things that you 
complain of. You know, real happiness and joy 
come from within. If you would ever wake up to 
your real self, you would know that ; but if you are 
always going to look for happiness in things and 
circumstances, I am afraid you will never find it. ’ ’ 
“But, my dear Pullet,” the egg replied, “I can’t 
see that you have such a good time. You’ve not 
seen as much of the world as I have, nor mixed with 
all kinds of people, from the highe&t to the loweSt. 
Why, I’ll venture to say that your acquaintance is 
not one-tenth as broad as mine. I know all the peo- 
ple who amount to anything in the world. I can go 
in any society I choose ; and in fa6t, I do go in the 
very highe&t and be&t society there is. Further than 
that, I believe in having as good a time as I possibly 
can, for I expe6t to be a long time dead. But when 
9 


EGG-SISTENCE 

the time does come for me to go, I can look back at 
my life and think: 'Well, I had a good time while 
it lasted, and now I am ready to go.’ Why, if I juSt 
sat down and did nothing but try to be good, and 
all that sort of thing, I’d be bored to death. You 
see, your narrow sort of life does not appeal to 
me.” 

"But,” the. little pullet interrupted, "I don’t juSt 
sit down and do nothing. I am as busy as I can be, 
and happy, too.” 

"Well, what do you do that makes you happy?” 

"Oh, I work a good deal, and — ” 

"Work! My heavens! aren’t there plenty others 
to do all the work?” 

"But I enjoy working!” 

"Well, there’s where you make a mistake. Work 
is simply for those who haven’t gotten above and 
beyond it. Let somebody else do it that doesn’t 
know any better.” 

"Oh, Egg, you juSt don’t understand.” 

"Why, yes, I do, little Pullet — only I think you 
have the wrong idea, that’s all. Now, come here to 
me and give me a nice kiss, and let’s Stop arguing. 
And if you can clean that mud off of my back — 
really, little Chick, you know I think you ’re awfully 
nice, you’re so sweet and good, and you understand 
me, and have always done so much for me. I cer- 
tainly like to have you with me, and when you’re 
not here I get lonesome for you.” 

The poor little pullet sighed to herself. Oh, why 
would the egg never learn any better! But she 
hopped gently up to the neSt and began trying to 
10 


EGG-SISTENCE 


get the mud off of the egg’s hack, he, meanwhile, 
murmuring little endearments to her. 

“Egg,” she said, “I don’t believe you under- 
stand how I feel toward you. Now, listen, I don’t 
want to kiss you, or anything like that, but I juSt 
feel so sorry for you, and I try to tell you things 
that I think will do you good — and then you don’t 
understand me at all. I don’t care whether you 
look beautiful or not. This shell of yours may be 
lovely and pleasant to look at, hut it is not the shell 
that I am interested in when I come to see and talk 
to you. It is the real you — the one inside of this 
smooth outside shell. Why, if you would juSt want 
it ever so little, and would he willing to give up all 
those good times you talk and think so much about, 
and the association with your world of admirers — 
and then, if you would let me help you — why, Egg, 
dear, you have no idea of the wonderful life that 
would open up for you. In fa<5t, you would really 
be ‘born again,’ and, Egg— I— well— ” and the 
little pullet blushed painfully, “you may not under- 
stand even this, hut I will tell you anyway — it’s juSt 
— that I would like to— to — he a mother to you. 
That’s the way I feel toward you— hut you have 
never seemed to — ” 

JuSt at that moment a pompous turkey, the high 
mogul of the barnyard, came Strutting into the hen 
house. The little pullet, recognizing the turkey as 
one of the egg’s boon companions, flew lightly down 
and haStily left. 

“Oh, ho!” the turkey said, “spooning with Miss 
Pullet, eh? How are you, anyway?” 

11 


EGG-SISTENCE 

‘ ‘ Oh, shut up ! ’ ’ said the egg. 4 ‘ And, ’ ’ he added, 
“don’t let me hear you make any such remarks 
about Miss Pullet. She’s not that kind of a bird. 
Do you understand?” 

1 ‘ Gee ! What ’s the matter ? ’ ’ inquired the turkey. 
“I think I happened in at the wrong moment for my 
little call.” 

“You certainly did,” growled the egg; “but now 
you’re here, what do you know?” 

With which grudging permission, the turkey en- 
tered upon a long and detailed explanation of a new 
scheme to outwit their common enemy, the chicken 
hawk. It seemed that the egg’s help was required, 
in that, due to his attra6tiveness, he would have a 
decided influence with the female hawks, and by 
getting around them in the proper way, it was only 
a matter of diplomacy to get control of the whole 
situation. The matter was finally arranged, and 
the turkey was preparing to take his leave. 

‘ c Say, Turk, ’ ’ said the egg, ‘ ‘ come here a minute. 
See if my back is clean.” And he turned himself 
about so the turkey could see. 

“Sure,” said the turkey, “fine as silk. Say, if I 
had half your good looks, I’d be happy.” 

The egg beamed with pleasure, and after the tur- 
key had gone he began his preparations for the 
conquest of the lady hawks. Judging from his 
previous experiences, he had no doubt of his ulti- 
mate success; in fa6t, he quite anticipated the ex- 
citement of the game. This was a little different 
from any of his former encounters. However, he 
felt wonderfully fit, and he soon forgot all about his 
recent peevishness. But he could £till hear the voice 
12 


EGG-SISTENCE 

of the little pullet, and while the words were for- 
gotten, there was something that sang to him 
through the tone of her voice, as he remembered it, 
and, as he thought of her, he mused to himself : 

“Poor little Chick. I wish she would jump into 
things and have a good time. But she has those 
foolish notions, whatever they may mean to her, 
and I suppose there is no hope of changing her. 
What she needs is an explosion of some kind, to 
wake her up and make her forget all that non- 
sense/ ’ 


CHAPTER 3 

T HE conquest of the hawks proved to he a big 
undertaking for the little coterie, of which the 
egg w T as one of the principal members. Some 
of the plans they had made did not turn out quite 
as expected, others consumed unthinkable amounts 
of time, and Still others failed altogether. The egg 
and the turkey had numerous consultations, and 
they became closer friends than ever. Somehow, it 
seemed that the fight was dragging endlessly, but 
it was an intensely interesting affair, and the egg 
now devoted practically all his time to it. His 
method of dealing with the situation required great 
taCt and diplomacy, and it brought into full play 
his exceptional magnetism and rare personality. It 
was necessary for him to be everything to every- 
body, from a charming, attentive gueSt, to a gay, 
reckless worldling. He had almoSt forgotten the 
little pullet, and it was only on very rare occasions 
13 


EGG-SISTENCE 


that lie saw her, for he was so busy that he did not 
have any time for ordinary barnyard associations. 
Of course, when they happened to meet, they spoke 
moSfc cordially to each other ; but there never 
seemed to be an opportunity for the old-time talks 
and interchange of ideas. So far as the pullets 
feelings toward him were concerned, she had re- 
peatedly assured him of her friendship, and he 
knew he could depend absolutely upon her loyalty. 
Of course he had hundreds of other friends who 
had all declared their undying devotion to him, and, 
on the whole, the egg felt that he was well fortified 
againSt any unkind turn of Fate. 

So matters went on, day after day. But there is 
never a lane so long that it has no turning, or never 
a day so fair that it has no end. So it finally came 
about that the wonderful egg began to see the end 
of his day. The fight with the hawks had become 
hot and bitter, and not only did it seem that the 
hawks would be vi6torious, but dissensions had 
arisen among the members of the barnyard coterie, 
and, worSt of all, the turkey and egg had had a seri- 
ous misunderstanding, and the powerful turkey 
finally came to the point where he found it advis- 
able to use all his resources to discount the efforts 
of the egg. As a result, the poor egg found himself, 
one hot day in late summer, completely down and 
out, besmeared with warm, slimy mud, unable to 
see, and powerless to raise his voice for help. He 
lay in total darkness, with only his unhappy 
thoughts for company. 

At firSfc, he raged at the insult heaped upon him, 
and vowed bitter revenge. Then he realized his 
14 


EGG-SISTENCE 

utter helplessness, and wept despairingly. In abso- 
lute deje6tion, he at la&t gave himself up to the con- 
templation of the probable exa6t method of his 
“going out. ” His always keen sense of humor now 
came to his assistance, and he smiled sardonically 
at his situation. 

“This is certainly a new experience for me,” he 
thought, somewhat facetiously. “Guess I’m not 
so far from being a pig, after all, now that I find 
myself wallowing in mud. ’ ’ 

Then he happened to remember the little pullet, 
and he wondered where she was and what she was 
doing. 

“My! how I wish she were here,” he thought. 
“I’ll bet she could get me out of this — and, Lord! 
what a comfort she’d be!” 

Then he fell to reviewing his pa&t life, and he 
thought of some of the friends he had had — or, were 
they really friends ? He had thought the turkey his 
friend, but he realized now that the turkey had only 
been using him for his own selfish purposes and 
pleasure. And then there were many others — the 
gay ducks, and the silly little geese, the innumer- 
able chickens and hens, several beautiful pheasants 
and peafowls, a va&t number of feathered folk with 
whom he had come in more or less pleasant conta6t 
throughout his whole egg-si£tence — and now, as he 
reviewed the chara6teri£tics of each one, he could 
hardly imagine any of them coming to his assist- 
ance. Oh, no ! they would not be&tir a precious foot 
to come near him now! But would the little pullet? 
Yes, he believed she would. And he finally gave 
15 


EGG-SISTENCE 


himself up to thoughts of her goodness, and her 
loyalty, and her understanding of him. 

But what was it that she always talked about, and 
that she said he could not understand? Oh, yes, 
something about not looking for happiness in peo- 
ple and things around you. Well, goodness knew, 
there was nothing like heaven in his present sur- 
roundings ! But, then, he had had lots of good times 
in his day — and he began to realize that the time 
had come when he was to look back at his life and 
remember that he had had a good time while it 
laSted, and he was now ready to go. But, somehow, 
as he thought of all those occasions, they seemed 
utterly foolish and useless, and he shuddered as he 
thought of some of the things he had done. He 
wondered whether the - turkey and others of his 
former associates were now having one of those 
“good times, * ’ and perhaps gloating over his down- 
fall. The very thought made him sick at heart. 

“My Stars!” he exclaimed to himself, “why did 
I ever do as I did? What have I now to show for 
it? Nothing! Absolutely nothing — in fa<5t, less than 
nothing. But, then, what else was there for a fellow 
to do?” 

The poor egg broke down completely. The only 
thing he could think was that he did not know how 
he could have done otherwise. The world had al- 
ways praised and flattered him, and had sort of 
looked to him to live a gay, happy, thoughtless life ; 
but now, when he was reaping the results of that 
life, the world had turned away in disguSt. The 
only one who had not everlastingly fed him on taffy 
and hot air was the little pullet. She had tried to 
16 


EGG-SISTENCE 


tell him things of a different kind — but he would 
not listen then. It had seemed so much more en- 
joyable to ju&t be happy in that easy, care-free way, 
with the feeling of being at one with the world 
about him, and in the association with bright, gay 
companions who liked him ju§t as he was. But now 
— oh, if the little pullet were only there to talk to 
him! She seemed to know about such real things, 
and she said she was happy — she had always told 
the truth, the egg felt quite sure of that — and now, 
as he thought of it, he believed that the little pullet 
had really been happier all along than those other 
chattering, giggling, smirking birds, with whom he 
had been pleased to associate. 

Well, the little pullet was not there, and the un- 
happy egg lay groaning miserably in the hot mud. 
For hours and hours, it seemed, his tortured brain 
fought wildly in an effort to come to some conclu- 
sion. But always he bumped up against the wall of 
his own dense ignorance of the truth; and then he 
would go back and £tart all over, right from the 
fir&t, only to fall with a sickening crash again at 
the end. 


CHAPTER 4 

I N the meantime, the little pullet had heard of the 
egg’s misfortunes, and her heart ached when she 
learned that he was so utterly wretched. She in- 
quired where he was, but no one seemed to know. 
Somebody laughed at her, and told her to forget 
him, that he was done for. 

17 


EGG-SISTENCE 


“But what did you do to him?” she cried. 

“Oh, nothing more than he would have done to 
us, if he had had the chance,” they mocked her. 

“Tell me,” she pleaded, “is he Still alive?” 

They shrugged their shoulders. “Well, maybe 
so, and maybe not. The laSt we saw of him his 
beautiful hide was Still whole, but there’s no telling 
what’s happened since — ” and they winked at each 
other. 

The poor little pullet tried vainly to find out juSt 
what had happened. All she could learn was that 
the egg, when laSt seen, was Still alive, but was faSt 
sinking in the slough at the lower end of the barn- 
yard. As to finding him and getting him out, why, 
that was almoSt beyond the limits of possibility; 
and it would be foolish to attempt it, for, with his 
fair, glistening shell besmeared with mud, how 
could one ever tell the difference between him and, 
say, a lifeless clod or Stone? 

The pullet waited for no more, but Started out 
immediately to look for the loSt egg. The days of 
separation had not found her pining hopelessly, but, 
inStead, she had been preparing herself for ju&t 
such an emergency as this, and her heart thrilled 
with the thought that possibly at laSt the egg might 
understand. For she knew from her own experience 
that one muSt go down to the very depths before it 
was possible to gain that wonderful secret of joy 
and happiness that she had discovered. Oh, if she 
might be the means of helping the egg now, if he 
had really reached the plain of humility from which 
to Start on his upward climb! Had she known of 
the terrific battle that was waging in the poor egg’s 
18 


EGG-SISTENCE 


weary soul, she might have gone about her search 
with more assurance as to the depths of despair and 
humility sounded by him. 

For the battle had continued unceasingly, with 
one crash after another againSt the wall of ignor- 
ance. It had finally come to the point where the 
egg longed for oblivion, and in the course of his 
ravings he vowed he would destroy himself. But 
even this he found was beyond his power. There 
seemed to be nothing left but the capacity to suffer 
— and suffer he did, to the uttermost. 

“Well,” he groaned wearily, “I suppose this is 
hell. I always thought the preachers did not know 
what they were talking about, when they warned 
people to be good. But I guess there was some- 
thing in it, after all. ’ ’ 

With a final desperate plunge against that awful 
wall of darkness, the egg crashed again to the very 
bottom of the universe. There he lay very Still for 
a moment. Then something happened — but what it 
was, he did not know. Anyway, he was Still alive; 
and as he lay, wondering what it all meant, he 
seemed to hear a voice. Perhaps it was the “Still, 
small voice” of his own true consciousness, now 
awakened — but it sounded to him like the voice of 
the little pullet. So he lay very quiet and listened. 
He wondered what made him feel so light-hearted 
and happy. It seemed as though a great load had 
rolled away with that laSt crashing fall, and, al- 
though he knew that he was Still in the same miser- 
able place, so far as his body was concerned, yet he 
juSt could not make himself feel angry, or afraid, or 
unhappy, or resentful — why, he could not even feel 
19 


EGG-SISTENCE 


sorry for himself! What in the world did it mean? 
Was he in heaven now? But how could that be, 
when he knew he was right there in a hot, sticky 
mud-hole in the barnyard? So he waited, knowing 
that something was coming, and that that “some- 
thing” was wonderfully good. 

Presently he heard the voice again, and he felt 
sure now that it was the little pullet. She was call- 
ing him, calling his name, and telling him not to be 
afraid. He tried to answer her, but the mud, or 
something, so filled his mouth that he could not 
make a sound. The little pullet seemed to be draw- 
ing nearer, her voice sounded ever closer, and the 
egg waited with a heart bursting with joy. At la&t 
something touched his side. The pullet had found 
him. She had waded the slough, knee deep in the 
hot, nauseating mud, until she felt the smooth, hard 
shell of the egg, and then, very carefully and ten- 
derly, she pulled him out upon the dry ground. 

“Oh, Egg!” she cried. “I have found you! I 
have found you ! And you are Still alive ! Oh ! Oh ! 
Oh !” and great tears of joy streamed from her eyes. 

The egg tried his beSt to say something, but the 
words would not come. He wanted to tell her of the 
wonderful thing that had happened to him, and of 
how he had wanted her, and how happy he was now. 
He thought he understood now what she had meant 
when she talked to him in the days gone by, but he 
found himself at a loss for words to express all 
those things that he wanted to say. 

The little pullet was washing away with her tears 
the loathsome mud that clung to the poor egg’s 
body. 


20 


EGG-SISTENCE 

“Oli, you dear,” she murmured tenderly, “you 
never expe6ted to come to anything like this, did 
you? But now I am going to take care of you and 
give you a chance to live. Yes, you shall soon know 
the meaning of life and joy and happiness.” And 
she gently turned him over and over, washing away 
the foul mud. 

Finally the la£t ugly blotch was gone, and the egg 
lay, clean and fresh and pure, innocent as a new- 
born babe, and as helpless. 

The little pullet now began rolling and pushing 
him, talking softly to him as she did so. 

“Poor little thing, they told me you were done 
for, and that you would never see the light again. 
Oh, you poor baby, you never did see the real light 
— and you thought you were so happy ! But now — 
oh, soon, now — ” and she lovingly and tenderly 
rolled him into a soft little ne§t that she had 
prepared. 

CHAPTER 5 

T HE ne&t was a little secret that the pullet had 
kept from all her friends and acquaintances, 
and as she prepared for the joyful task of 
brooding over the beautiful egg, she felt very thank- 
ful that she had told no one about it, for now she 
would have a much more wonderful and important 
secret to keep from the curious barnyard world — 
and she realized the danger to the egg, if any of his 
enemies should learn of his whereabouts. 

There was one, however, with whom the little 
pullet felt she mu&t share her great joy, and that 
21 


EGG-SISTENCE 


was her own mother. So, one morning, she arose 
very early and sought the old mother hen, and whis- 
pered her wonderful news. 

“ Mother,’ ’ she said, “I found the beautiful egg! 
He was away down in the mud, but I pulled him out, 
and — ” 

“Was he Still alive, dear?” her mother softly 
asked. 

“Yes, Mother, he was alive, but unconscious, 
and I — ” 

“You mean, daughter, that he had lo&t his egg- 
consciousness ? ” 

“Yes — and I had the feeling that at la&t he was 
ready to give up that old egg-siStence. And so I 
took him to my neSt — you won’t tell, will you, 
Mother, dear? And now I expe<5t before long to be 
— a proud, happy mother!” 

“You’ll be a darling little mother,” said the old 
hen, as she caressed her happy daughter and bade 
her hurry back to the neSt, promising to keep the 
secret moSt faithfully. So the little pullet hurried 
back, and there she sat, day after day, at her happy 
task. 

The egg knew now that a wonderful thing was 
happening to him. He felt himself glow and thrill 
with inner warmth and life. He seemed to be grow- 
ing and developing as the days went by, and finally 
his shell, the beautiful covering that he had always 
considered such an important essential of his egg- 
si§tence, began to bind and hold him tightly. He 
wondered whether he should be able to get out of it 
alive, for he knew that if he kept on growing it 
would become too small for him. He mused to him- 
self now, what a va§t change had come over him — 
22 


EGG-SISTENCE 


for in the old days he would have sacrificed every- 
thing for the prote6tion and care of his wonderful 
shell, hut now, why, the only thing he could think of 
was how to get rid of it, so that he would be un- 
hampered in the growth of his own true self. 

In the meantime, late summer had suddenly 
turned into fall, and cold, chilly winds began blow- 
ing down from the north; but one bright, clear 
morning the little pullet awakened with a £tart and 
a gasp of joy, for against her breast she felt a soft 
little wriggly body, and with a happy, motherly 
cluck, she raised herself and looked into the ne£t. 
There she saw the mo§t beautiful vision that ever a 
mother hen’s eyes wonderingly beheld. It was ju£t 
a fluff of softest down, tipped with a golden beak, 
and supported on a pair of tiny yellow legs. But 
to the happy little mother it was the mo&t adorable 
bit of life that had ever been created. It repre- 
sented, to her, the fulfillment of all her dearest 
hopes and dreams, the accomplishing of the one 
thing that she had long known would make her hap- 
pier than anything else in the world. It was simply 
the ‘ 4 becoming as a little child” of the gay, worldly, 
pleasure-loving, self-satisfied egg. 

As she looked into the dear, inquiring eyes of the 
baby chick, the little mother read there the answer 
to all her own yearnings, and with a happiness al- 
most beyond belief, she set herself to the new task 
of teaching the little one all those things that she 
knew he was now ready and anxious to learn. 

The little chick himself was almost burning with 
joy, and with the desire to tell all about his wonder- 
ful experience in coming out of the old egg-si£tence 
23 


EGG-SISTENCE 


into this glorious new life. But he found that he 
muSt learn to use his new tongue — and, as a matter 
of fa£t, the things he wanted to say, and even his 
very thoughts, were so different from those of his 
previous life, that he really had to Start right at the 
firSt and learn an entirely new language. He found 
that the difference between the old tongue and the 
new was that the former had been a language of 
Self, whereas now he was learning the language of 
Love. So he listened closely to everything his little 
mother said, and in an incredibly short space of 
time he began talking — in rather a baby fashion at 
firSt, of course, but he asked hundreds of questions 
every day, and his little eyes were wide open all the 
time, so that it was not long before he could talk as 
well as anyone. 

The little mother had decided that it would be 
beSt to keep him rather closely at home at firSt, due 
to the raw, cold winds, and the possible unpleasant 
reception he might receive in the barnyard. So she 
kept him away from all the feathered folk, teaching 
him and explaining to him the mysteries of life. 
She found that he understood everything perfectly 
now, and, in fa6t, he even brought up little points 
which had escaped her notice, and together they 
worked out the wonderful truths of life, bringing 
into full realization all the joys and delights of real 
existence. 

In that existence was included no thought of fear, 
or anger, or hate, but juSt love, and truSt, and good- 
ness, and truth. In their happy association the 
little mother one day lovingly named her son 
‘ i Prince Chanticleer, ’ ’ and he, with an adoring look, 
24 


EGG-SISTENCE 

told her that to him she would always be his 
“Sweetheart Mother.” 

Finally, it was decided that the time had come for 
Prince Chanticleer to make his how, and take his 
place in the world. He felt that there was a great 
work for him to do, and he joyfully looked forward 
to the pleasure of bringing to the world his message 
of love. 


CHAPTER 6 

P RINCE CHANTICLEER ’S advent into the 
barnyard circle caused the greatest excitement. 
In spite of the great transformation that had 
taken place, he had been immediately recognized by 
his former friends and associates; and when they 
were able to overcome their astonishment at seeing 
him again, having long thought him dead, they 
asked him how it had happened. 

“It didn’t ju&t happen,” he told them. “You see, 
my little mother knew all along, and she was only 
waiting for the opportunity to prove it. A long 
time ago, when I was juSt the gay, worldly egg you 
all knew, she told me that if I ever came to the point 
of giving up the great big idea I had of myself and 
of my wonderful personality, I might learn to know 
real life and happiness. At that time I was so in- 
toxicated with the sense of my own importance and 
attractiveness that I could not appreciate what she 
told me, but later, when misfortune overtook me, I 
realized the utter foolishness and worthlessness of 
all those things— especially in the time of my great- 
25 


EGG-SISTENCE 


e£t need — and then I began to think there was some 
truth in what she had told me. Then, as you all 
know, she rescued me, and has cared for me ever 
since. And now, well, my friends, I am so happy in 
my new-found life that I want to share it with all 
of you.” 

4 4 But, Gee! you were an old egg when she took 
you under her wing, ’ ’ they said, ‘ i and of all the gay 
times anybody ever had — why, things have never 
been so bright since you went away!” 

The old turkey, now king of the barnyard, sidled 
over close to his former friend. Prince Chanticleer 
looked wonderfully well-fed and prosperous and 
happy, and possibly now it would be well to get into 
his good graces once more. So, with a mo§t friendly 
smile and bow, and speaking in behalf of himself 
and his loyal subjects, he wished to assure Prince 
Chanticleer that they were all mo£t happy to have 
him back. 

A bright idea came into the old turkey’s head 
while he was speaking, and in concluding his speech 
he announced that a special dinner party would be 
arranged for that evening in honor of the Prince’s 
return, to which all the old crowd were cordially in- 
vited, and it was hoped that the barnyard would 
awake from its stupor and have again its old-time 
brightness and gayety, such as it had enjoyed be- 
fore the Prince had so unfortunately been taken 
from their mid§t. A sly wink for the Prince’s special 
benefit concluded the turkey’s eloquent and diplo- 
matic little speech. 

A great hurrah went up from the throats of the 
lu§ty barnyard gang. Young cocks looked mean- 
26 


EGG-SISTENCE 

ingfully at each other, and smiles of anticipation 
spread over their faces. Glancing at Prince Chan- 
ticleer, they were surprised at his lack of enthusi- 
asm, and a hush fell over them, as they saw he 
wished to speak. 

“My dear friends,’ ’ he gently began, “I have 
suffered for all those ‘gay times’ we used to have, 
and I feel no desire to resume again the sort of life 
I formerly enjoyed. In fact, as I see it now, I was 
only waiting my time then.” 

“What!” they exclaimed with sneering indigna- 
tion, and the old turkey’s face grew red with anger. 

“Do you mean to insinuate that we are waiting 
our time when we indulge in a little harmless 
pleasure?” he gobbled, in his wrath. 

“I speak only for myself,” said Prince Chanti- 
cleer. And he walked quietly away, leaving a crowd 
of surprised, gaping fowls, some of whom seemed 
inclined to take his part, although mot of them felt 
highly insulted. 

“Why, the very idea!” they shrieked, when they 
again found their voices ; and then a great, gabbling 
confusion arose. 

A sly chicken hawk, watching his chance, swooped 
rapidly down to the barnyard. He made straight 
for the little Chanticleer, the younget inhabitant 
of the barnyard, and the one on whom he had had 
his eye now many a day. He had watched and 
waited, giving the chick time to grow to a desirable 
size, and now, as he saw him alone and unprotected, 
the opportunity seemed jut right. So, with a sud- 
den plunge, the dreaded hawk seized and carried 
away the little Prince Chanticleer. 

27 


EGG-SISTENCE 


In an instant the barnyard again became quiet, as 
they realized what had happened ; and now, when it 
was too late, many of the fickle ones began mourn- 
ing for the little Chanticleer. They at once turned 
on the turkey gobbler, blaming him for not having 
protested the baby of the barnyard, regardless of 
what he had said to them, and they cackled and 
hissed in their indignation. 


CHAPTER 7 

M EANWHILE, the hawk had arrived at his 
destination, and dropping his prey into the 
neSt with his own young, he hurried away to 
find his mate, so that she might share in the treat. 
Prince Chanticleer drew a long breath and Stretched 
his wings to see whether they were Still whole. He 
found that no damage had been done, and he began 
wondering how he could make his escape. Then he 
recalled the rule for such an occasion as this, which 
was, merely to love and fear not. So he began 
preening his feathers and Straightening himself up 
a bit. Then he noticed the hungry little hawks in 
•the neSt, with their big, open mouths, and he looked 
around for something to feed them. JuSt then a 
big caterpillar crawled lazily up to the edge of the 
neSt, and the keen-eyed little Chanticleer seized it 
and divided it into bits, dropping a piece into the 
mouth of each little hawk. 

The mother hawk, returning from an unsuccessful 
foraging trip, had arrived in time to see the whole 
28 


EGG-SISTENCE 


performance, and she had watched with great curi- 
osity as Prince Chanticleer carefully fed each hun- 
gry little baby hawk. Her heart was so touched 
that she vowed he should be saved, and when the 
father hawk came hurrying back, she flew out to 
meet him and told him of her discovery. 

The old hawk’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated 
the loss of his prize bit of chicken meat, but finally 
he agreed that such kindness should not go unre- 
warded. So it was arranged that the little Chanti- 
cleer should be returned to the barnyard, and at 
twilight the old hawk picked him up and carried 
him home. 

The next morning the barnyard inhabitants had 
another big surprise, when they beheld the little 
Chanticleer with his mother, calmly eating break- 
fast, as though nothing had happened. Such a mir- 
acle had never been known before, and the more 
they thought of it, the greater the wonder became. 
Finally, some one suggested that the young Chanti- 
cleer be made king of the barnyard. A heated dis- 
cussion arose, some saying that the turkey would 
never consent to giving up his leadership, while 
others insisted that the turkey had been in power 
long enough, and that he was not a good king 
anyway. 

It seemed, however, that the majority were in 
favor of the Prince, and, with a great hoo-doo, flap- 
ping of wings, shrieking and cackling, they sur- 
rounded the little Chanticleer and proclaimed him 
king. The old turkey, hearing the hubbub, came 
Strutting up to see what caused the commotion, and 
when he learned the real situation, his anger knew 
29 


EGG-SISTENCE 


no bounds. With a furious gobble, he rushed, with 
outstretched wings, at the leaders of the movement, 
who beat a ha&ty retreat. Prince Chanticleer, how- 
ever, Stood his ground calmly and fearlessly. The 
turkey was so surprised and aStonished, not only at 
seeing the young Chanticleer alive and unhurt from 
his experience with the hawk, but also at his evident 
lack of fear now, when all the other barnyard fowls 
had fled in terror before his wrath, that he cooled 
down perceptibly, and, gaining control of his voice, 
demanded an explanation. 

“Why,” the Prince began, “there is nothing re- 
markable about my escape. I do not consider any- 
one as an enemy, not even a chicken hawk, and yes- 
terday, after letting me visit a little while with his 
young ones, the old hawk brought me home — and in 
fadt, he and I have become very good friends. Now, 
your people here, thinking I exerted some great 
power over the hawk, have taken it into their heads 
to make me king, and they were, as you know, ju£t 
ratifying their decision when you arrived on the 
scene. I, however, do not crave that honor, and in 
fadt, I prefer to live quietly and peacefully. You 
need, therefore, not fear any disloyalty on my part, 
but rather should you consider me a friend and 
faithful subject.” 

By this time the curious fowls had crept cau- 
tiously back, and were now crowding closely about 
the turkey and Prince Chanticleer to hear what was 
being said. 

“My friends,” the Prince said, turning to the 
wondering flocks, ‘ ‘ allow me to suggest that you re- 
turn to the turkey, your rightful king. I have other 
30 


EGG-SISTENCE 


work to do, which will not permit me to accept yonr 
kind but thoughtless offer.” Then, as the shame- 
faced birds sheepishly hung their heads, Prince 
Chanticleer slipped quietly away. 

That evening, as he and his little mother snuggled 
side by side in the cold autumn air, they discussed 
the episode of the morning. 

“It all juSt goes to show what a wrong idea the 
world has in regard to things,” remarked the 
Prince. “Now those foolish birds really thought 
they were doing me a great honor in offering me the 
throne — as though a mere worldly gift could make 
one happy ! That is juSt where they make their mis- 
take, though, in looking to material, worldly offices 
and possessions, inStead of to the true, real things. 
Why, they did not even appreciate that my escape 
from the hawk was due to the power of love and 
truSt, and not to any personal ability on my part. 
It seems so clear to us, doesn’t it? But they do not 
appear to have the faintest idea of the truth!” 

“No, dear Prince,” said his mother. “But they 
muSt all learn, and they will learn, some time and 
in some way.” 

“But, Mother dear, all those birds, the turkey, 
and all of them, were hatched from eggs, juSt as I 
was, were they not? And why did they not experi- 
ence a change from the old beliefs when they came 
out of the shell of their old personality and self?” 

“Dear one, it is not in the physical change that 
the real transformation takes place. That is merely 
incidental — in other words, it is only a phase in the 
constantly changing form of physical existence. But 
the real metamorphosis or change is a sort of awak- 
31 


EGG-SISTENCE 


ening from the old beliefs. For indance, in yonr 
case, yonr nature was really transformed before 
you left the phase of life in which you were then 
egg-siding. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘Yes, Mother, I know that I was through with all 
that old life before you found me there in the mud, 
but I think if it had not been for you I would never 
have gotten out of there.” 

“It was your awakening to the truth — or perhaps 
we should say it was the going to sleep of the old 
egg-consciousness, or physical sense — that brought 
me to you. Truth and love work wonders, you 
know, and when that little spark of truth awoke in 
you, it immediately called out to love, and love came 
and did the red. So, you see, your development 
from the egg date of your physical exidence was 
only a sort of proof of your real ‘new birth.’ Of 
course, many birds are hatched out who have not 
yet experienced that new birth, and so they jud go 
on, living in a merely physical way, looking for en- 
joyment in physical, material things. Why, even 
you might dill live as you did formerly — except that 
you know better now — and all our friends will, here 
or hereafter, come to know, jud as we do.” 

So they talked, softly and happily, until finally 
they both fell asleep. 

CHAPTER 8 

A S time went by Prince Chanticleer grew in 
underdanding, and day by day he proved the 
power of love and goodness in the overcom- 
ing of difficulties of every kind. The war with the 
32 


EGG-SISTENCE 

chicken hawks had suddenly ceased, following his 
encounter on the firSt day of his advent into the 
barnyard world, and, although it was a wonderful 
relief to the feathered tribes to feel free from that 
danger, yet few of them understood the reason for 
the cessation of hostilities. Even the proud turkey 
king, with a moSt complacent air, ascribed to him- 
self the glory of the victory, and took keen pleasure 
in relating the shrewd methods he had used in de- 
feating the enemy. 

Prince Chanticleer, however, was gradually se- 
curing a following among the lowly members of the 
barnyard, those who, from some cause or other, had 
been devoid of pride and worldly ambitions, so that 
they appreciated the Prince’s attitude, and gladly 
accepted his words of wisdom. Some of them began 
applying to their own problems the truths he taught, 
and found that the solution became easy and sure. 
As yet, however, moSt of the barnyard world scoffed 
at the Prince, for they could not understand him, 
and in his presence they felt uncomfortable, so that 
they avoided him as much as possible. 

The time came when the old turkey began to look 
with disfavor at the growing interest in Prince 
Chanticleer ’s Strange doStrines, and he became fear- 
ful leSt the Prince should some day take away his 
throne. Finally, becoming desperate in the face of 
constantly increasing devotion to the Prince, he 
called some of his friends to him and consulted with 
them in regard to doing away with the Prince. They 
realized Prince Chanticleer’s popularity, and, in 
addition to that, he seemed to possess some Strange 
power by which he was enabled to do all sorts of 
33 


EGG-SISTENCE 


wonders, and they rather hesitated to place them- 
selves in the way of that power. At the same time 
it was definitely planned to use any means, fair or 
foul, and the turkey and his followers were only 
waiting for the right opportunity, before slaying 
the innocent offender. 

Prince Chanticleer was entirely unconscious of 
any such attitude toward him. Besides increasing 
in wisdom, he had long since become the largest and 
handsomest young cock in the barnyard. Many ad- 
miring glances were caSt in his direction, but, in his 
ceaseless efforts in behalf of the cause to which he 
was devoted, he was unaware of his own personal 
attractiveness, and never gave it so much as a 
thought. 

In the meantime, the days were becoming shorter 
and colder, and things had taken on a different look. 
The trees, having firSt changed color, were dropping 
their leaves, the fields were Stripped of their grain, 
and the grass had become withered and brown. Gen- 
erally, all about, there seemed to be a decided prep- 
aration for some coming event. 

In the barnyard it began to be whispered that it 
would soon be Thanksgiving. Some of the older 
members of the barnyard seemed quiet and thought- 
ful. It was rumored that the turkey’s days were 
numbered, and many eyes watched him with morbid 
curiosity, as he Strutted and puffed, for of late he 
had fared remarkably well and he was swollen with 
pride and prosperity. 

Prince Chanticleer became conscious of the un- 
reSt and fear throughout the barnyard, and he did 
his beSt to reassure the excited fowls. One day, 
34 


EGG-SISTENCE 

however, his eyes opened wide with wonder, as the 
farmer and his wife came into the barnyard and 
looked over the flocks of turkeys, chickens, ducks 
and geese. Many of the fearful ones fled, hiding 
themselves from possible danger. The turkey, how- 
ever, feeling the security of his position, and trust- 
ing to the favor which had recently singled him out, 
Strutted with his greatest dignity, and not until he 
had suddenly been seized by the farmer and placed 
in a Stuffy little coop did he realize the futility of 
his hopes. 

Prince Chanticleer, too, felt unafraid, for he had 
never yet known fear of any kind, and even when 
the turkey began calling wildly for help, he hovered 
near, thinking he might perhaps be of assistance to 
the poor old haughty king, whose pride had taken 
such a sudden tumble. 

As the farmer’s wife noticed the beautiful Prince 
Chanticleer, looking wonderingly and fearlessly on 
at the proceedings, she seemed to be Struck with 
surprise and admiration, and she quickly Stooped 
and lifted the Prince in her arms. After a little 
conference with the farmer, and a careful examina- 
tion of Chanticleer’s handsome body, it was evi- 
dently decided to coop him, too, and he was placed 
in a pen beside the one in which the turkey was now 
trembling in terror. 

After the farmer and his wife had left the barn- 
yard, the curious and wondering fowls gathered 
around the coops and began to talk and speculate 
as to the possible disposition that would be made of 
the two unfortunates. The turkey’s erStwhile 
friends and companions held themselves Strangely 
35 


EGG-SISTENCE 

aloof now, and offered him very little consolation 
with their scarcely concealed remarks prognosti- 
cating his demise. On the other hand, many of 
Prince Chanticleer’s followers now gathered around 
him, assuring him of their loyalty and their love, 
and pleading with him to save himself from the fate 
they felt was hovering over him. 

In the one coop, the turkey was trembling with 
fear, while in the other, Prince Chanticleer, bright 
and fearless, was trying to reassure the weeping 
fowls gathered around. 

“My friends,” he said, “do not mourn if I should 
be taken away from you, for I shall have advanced 
one Step farther in the evolution toward Perfedtion. 
My feathered body, which you now see, is not the 
boundary and circumference of my life — that is 
limitless, and the dissolution of this flesh and bones 
no more destroys my life than did the loss of my 
mere egg-shell body. On the other hand, by giving 
up that egg-shell life, I found one greater, fuller and 
more joyous than any I had ever dreamed of. So 
now, why should I fear another change, which doubt- 
less will bring to me a Still greater and more won- 
derful existence. Oh, my dear friends, remember 
what I have told you: there is only one life, and 
that is Truth and Love and Goodness.” 

At twilight, when the fowls had quietly slipped 
away to their rooSts for the night, Prince Chanti- 
cleer turned to the turkey, and gently began to re- 
assure and comfort him. He explained to the tur- 
key some of the wonderful truths that he had 
learned, and to which the turkey now listened with 
the keeneSt interest and apparent understanding, 
36 


EGG-SISTENCE 

for he had finally become calm and brave, prepared 
for anything that might befall him. 

“My dear Chanticleer, ’ ’ he said, as a final good- 
night to his fellow prisoner, “you have no idea how 
I appreciate the things you have told me. My only 
regret now is that I have spent my days so foolishly. 
But I believe I have seen the light, and, in whatever 
future £tate I may find myself, I hope and expert to 
live in such a manner as to prove my sincerity.” 

The next morning the pens in which the turkey 
and Chanticleer had been imprisoned were empty, 
and the barnyard folk went about their affairs 
quietly and thoughtfully. It seemed that Prince 
Chanticleer’s words had found their way to the 
hearts of many hitherto quarrelsome, gossipy fowls, 
and that a great peace and calm had fallen upon all 
of them. 

The day following, and the day after that, proved 
uneventful. A week, two weeks, flew by. And then, 
one beautiful, fro&ty morning, Prince Chanticleer 
reappeared. The flocks quickly gathered around 
him, while he told what had happened, and where he 
had been. 

It seemed that the farmer and his wife, when ex- 
amining Prince Chanticleer’s body, had found him 
so perfect in every point that they had decided to 
enter him in a poultry exhibit, and there he had won 
all the highest honors for birds of his class. Day 
after day the admiring crowds passing his cage had 
remarked on the beauty of the wonderful young 
bird — an d it was more than he could do to keep from 
hearing some of the things they said. All this he 
told his adoring followers in a mo§t deprecating 
37 


EGG-SISTENCE 

way, but he assured them that he had succeeded in 
avoiding an attack of pride and arrogance, and now 
he had returned to his beloved friends and would 
henceforth, he hoped, be with them and help them 
work out their own problems. 

Great rejoicing arose in the barnyard, and the 
happy feathered ho£t surrounded the beautiful 
Chanticleer and joyously proclaimed him their king. 

“Not king,” he said, with a tender, loving smile, 
“but rather, servant, helper, friend.” 

And so it was that, as the happy birds drew near, 
the loyal Chanticleer resumed his former place 
among the fowls, and gently taught and led them in 
the life of Truth and Love and Goodness. 


38 























(,:=,) ANDEAN DAYS 


By Charles Francis 
Stocking, E. M. 


TALES OF THE SPANISH MAIN 
AND COLOMBIAN JUNGLE 



A series of unusual and topical narratives and essays, based on the vivid 
experiences of the author along the romantic Spanish Main and in the 
trackless wilds of Colombia, S. A., and having a pertinent bearing on present- 
day conditions, problems and modes of thought. 

Number 1 is now ready, and contains five narratives by Charles Francis 
Stocking and a juvenile story adapted from the writings of Verna Olive 
Ward. 

Pamphlet form, illustrated, with colored frontispiece of ancient Simiti, 
South America. Price 25c. Postage 3c. 

Subsequent numbers of the Andean Days series will be issued at frequent 
intervals. 


(dsD EGG - SISTENCE -W- 

A most unique story of the metamorphosis of a barnyard egg, in which 
is subtly illustrated the universal law of progress. It is a story for young 
and old — children hear it eagerly and retain its pointed lesson; adults read 
it with marked interest and remember the practical truth it conveys. As a 
gift for holidays, Christmas and Easter, it is especially attractive and 
appropriate. 

Pamphlet form. Price 25c. Postage sc. 

THE MAESTRO COMPANY, monadnock block, Chicago 



THE MAYOR OF FILBERT *jSsSKr 


Strange story of the proprietor of two saloons and a brewery saved from 



By Charles Francis Stocking, E. M, 

( Eighth Edition Now Ready) 

In this beautifully written treatise, composed by 
the author in the sun-kissed hills of California, 
a young girl in the last stages of tuberculosis, 
hopeless of human aid and denouncing God and man-made creeds, receives 
a new truth — and with it a new sense of life. 

How this was accomplished is the vital message which this book has carried 
around the world to thousands of helpless, discouraged, sin-weary sufferers, 
becoming truly a “light shining in dark places” 

Cloth , $1.50 net. Postage 10 c. 


THE DIARY OF 
JEAN EVARTS 


the curse of his own business. 

“It is to the liquor traffic what Uncle Tom’s 
Cabin was to slavery.” 

The book that will make your town “dry.” 

Offers that sort of education which is a stronger 
protection to government than a standing army. 
Particularly for wives and mothers to give their 
husbands and sons, as it is a book for men. 

Cloth, 3 illustrations. $1.25 net. Postage 10c. 


CARMEN ARIZA 


By Charles Francis Stocking, E. M. 

( Fifth Edition Now Ready) 

The dramatic story of a girl who rescued a priest 
from his chains of bigotry and death through her 
working knowledge of obsolete, war-causing hu- 
man beliefs, of the poisonous weeds of mentalized 
religion, and the suppositional-opposite nature of 
evil and the methods of combating it. 

Its treatment of the questions of a “future state,” 
of death, matter, and the origin and destiny of 
the human mind is the most remarkable and 
successful ever embodied in a novel. 

Colored frontispiece, cloth, $1.85 net. Leather, 
$2.25 net. De Luxe, leather, gilt edges, $2.75 
net. Postage 15 c. 


THE MAESTRO COMPANY, monadnock block, Chicago 






























00025fcil3004 



